


Something You Should Know

by wwwjudedotcom



Category: Roswell New Mexico (TV 2019)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-18
Updated: 2020-09-18
Packaged: 2021-03-07 16:40:17
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 773
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26530777
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wwwjudedotcom/pseuds/wwwjudedotcom
Summary: Drunk Guerin telling Alex he loves him.
Relationships: Michael Guerin/Alex Manes
Comments: 4
Kudos: 41





	Something You Should Know

**Author's Note:**

> For Michael Guerin Week  
> Day 2: "There's something you should know"

“There’s something you should know.”

“Again, Guerin?”

“What again?” 

Alex just sighed, eyeing the beers next to Michael. Every time he got drunk he wound up at Alex’s. And every time, Michael would spill his guts. 

“Nothing, what do I need to know?”

He knew Alex gave in, usually. Michael also knew it was easier to talk to Alex when he was drunk, when he wasn’t so afraid of what Alex would say back. 

“You need to know,” Michael paused, burping only a little bit, “That I absolutely love you. So much. Present tense and on purpose. I love,” A hiccup this time, “I love you, Alex.” 

As drunk as he was, Michael still watched Alex’s face for any sign of emotion. Nothing. His face was so closed off, like the way it was around Kyle. No, Michael took that back, Kyle would get a laugh sometimes. Michael just got this closed off version of a soldier who didn’t say anything. He just kept staring at him.

“You don’t mean it.” 

Michael nearly fell over when he heard Alex speak. He sat down on Alex’s front steps and started to cry. The alcohol was getting to him. A few beers and he was just barely brave enough to walk to Alex’s; a few more on the way and he would spill his guts; but the one he had chugged just before knocking had pushed him into dangerous sad drunk territory. 

“Why don’t you believe me?” 

Alex almost didn’t hear him. 

“You only tell me when you’re drunk. You come over after you’ve poured yourself enough tequila or drank enough beer to give yourself enough courage to get here. There’s literally a bottle in your hand,” Alex pointed, and Michael looked down at the culprit of the sad drunken state he was in, “You only tell me you love me when it’s the middle of the night and you can hardly walk and you smell like booze. If you’re going to tell me you love me, be sober when you do it. Or don’t do it at all.” 

Michael’s head twisted back up to look at Alex. “Be sober when you do it.” And suddenly Michael had never wanted to be sober more in his life.

“I wish my powers were to make me sober. I’d use them right now. And then I would say I-“ 

Alex cut him off, “Sober, remember?” 

He nodded reluctantly and leaned against the porch railing. The crisp air felt good, made his stomach less sick. Alex usually let him stay for an hour or so, until he was sober enough to walk back into town. They had never talked like this before. Normally Michael would show up and apologize or make small talk or just sit here. Michael never cried when he showed up. That was a rule he made himself. He knew his limits, and he knew he didn’t want to cry in front of Alex. But something about tonight, about the last beer in his hand, about the way he felt, something made him break. 

“I’m sorry,” Michael said quietly. 

Alex just stared, waiting for the why. Michael didn’t say anything else. It was a waiting game, and neither wanted to lose. 

Finally, “You’ve never been sad drunk here. You can crash on the couch if you need to. Don’t think it means anything.” 

Michael stood up way too fast for someone as drunk as he was, but in his defense, he knew it meant something. He nodded in thanks to Alex and stumbled in. 

“Oh, wait,” Michael stopped just before reaching the couch, “I need a pen, right now before I forget.” 

Alex sighed but gently tossed a sharpie at Michael. He managed to catch it and uncapped it with his teeth. He heard Alex mumble something in complaint on his way to his room, so he shouted back a muffled, “Sorry!” 

Michael hummed a bit to himself as he wrote on his hand. He looked at it a few times and, content it wouldn’t smudge, put the pen back in the drawer he saw Alex get it from. Satisfied with his handiwork, he proceeded to collapse onto the couch and fall asleep. 

Alex walked in a few minutes later, fully prepared to ask Michael if he needed water or an extra pillow, but he saw the drunk cowboy asleep, and the words died in his mouth. Michael’s arm was flung over the edge of the couch and Alex squinted to see what he had written.

"get sober so you can tell Alex you love him"

Alex just stared and whispered a soft, “I’ll wait.”


End file.
